It's Not A Diary- It's A Journal, You Dumbfuck
by LittleRussianTiger
Summary: Russia starts a dia- Excuse me, JOURNAL. And shit happens. Plus, don't ask why it says dairy in the first chapter. FUCK SPELLING.
1. It's Not A Diary

Quick note: If you haven't figured this out already, we don't frequently update. So don't come beating down our door. Also, as the title implies, there will be swearing. Just saying. AND WE APOLOGIZE FOR SPELLING ERRORS- IT'S HARD TYPING ON AN iPAD (also, we no own Hetalia)

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January 1

Seeing that it is now a new year, big sister told me I should start keeping a diary. I told her it sounded girly. She started crying.

So here I am, writing in this...thing. Whatever will make you happy, sister. I feel like an idiot. Seriously, how many other guys have a fucking DIARY?! It seems gay to me. In that case, I'm sure France has one. But me?

Oh godammit... Here comes Amerika, the crackhead. I'd spell it with a 'c', but one day he shall become one with me and it WILL be a 'k'. On second thought, I'm not sure I want to take him over. He's annoying as fuck.

I guess I must be going. I have to shove my pipe up Amerika's ass for trying to peer over my shoulder.

Your Mildly Pissed Author,

The Russian Federation

P.S- I think I'll call it a journal. It sounds better than diary.


	2. Fuck My Life

January 2

So I went to visit Finland today. Sweden broke a chair over my head because I tried to hug his "wife". I sucker punched him in the face. He poked me in the eyes. I shoved my pipe down his throat. Then I left.

That disaster was soon followed by the massacre of my sunflower garden; Amerika dumped a pile of British cookies in the field, and they were so downright shitty, the sunflowers committed suicide.

As if THAT wasn't bad enough, I was almost raped by Belarus today. I think I'll shower in the frozen pond instead.

Currently, I'm on a frozen island int he middle of who the fuck knows, trying to hide from that demon girl. Maybe I'll build a new home here. There's nothing for miles and miles around. Ahh... A house with no one around... Because fuck everybody. And fuck my life

Your Fucking Author,

The Russian Federation Who Is In No Way Afraid Of Belarus


	3. Vodka Is Life

January 3

It took me all night to swim home from that sunflower-forsaken island. I would've stayed longer, but damn, I needed vodka. Vodka is life.

Now it is morning, and I'm thinking it must be time to repay Amerika for the sunflowers. By targeting and blowing several McDonalds to smithereens.

Because Fuck Long Entries,

The Russian Federation


	4. Go To Hell, Francy Pants

January 4

I am not allowed to kill France. I am not allowed to gravely injure France. I am not allowed to castrate France. I am not allowed to throw France to Belarus. I am not allowed to hang France form the top of the Eiffel Tower. I am not allowed to lock him in that "Fuck Box" we put Italy in.

Fuck you, France. Now the whole world thinks I have breasts. South Korea is after me. I'll never hear the end of it from Prussia. Amerika will taunt me until I'm FORCED to commit nuclear holocaust. I must go and gather more pipes.

Your Ashamed Writer,

The Non-Feminine Russian Federation


	5. Poof

January 5

Today was..._slightly_ better. Canada came to visit. He brought maple syrup and a speaking bear. Bears shouldn't do that.

All we did was talk, but for some reason he ran away about halfway through. Maybe it was the blood all over the floor... I'm not even sure who's. I hope it's French blood.

Also, today, I saw Britain walking around outside my house. So I thought to myself, "Dafaq?", and went to investigate. Six words- wand, HOLY FUCK, poof, cat ears.

Fuck fuckity fuck. It's not that I don't like cats- I just don't like it when they're fused into my body. Tomorrow I'll ask that lazy assed Greek guy for help. If he's not sleeping away. He could sleep through a nuke. Hey, that sounds like an idea...

Your Cat-Eared Author,

The Russian Federation


	6. Greece Stahp

January 6

Almost a week into 2015... I hope this year will go fast. So far, it's not going to well... Anyway, I visited Greece today. He gave me a vial with this strange purple stuff in it. What the fuck, Greece. What. The. Fuck. And that's not all- before I left, he made me sit down on his lap so he could pet my ears. Now Japan's got pictures to show his "Yaoi Nation". I have no clue what yaoi is. I'll Google it later. The internet has all the answers.

I drank that purple shit with some vodka. So far, nothing's happened. I'll wait until tomorrow morning.

Your Traumatized Athour (FUCK SPELLING),

The Russian Federation


	7. Plans and Yaoi

THANK YOU SO DAMN MUCH FOR THE REVEIWS! RANDOM LITERALLY ALMOST CRIED SHE WAS SO HAPPY. AND THANK FOR THE SUGGESTIONS- THEY CURE WRITERS BLOCK. MAYBE WE WILL UPDATE MORE FREQEUNTLY.

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January 7

... ... Today... Was... Horrorifying. I looked up yaoi. Japan... I... I don't know what to say... Just... Why. What the fuck does it exist...?

The only upside was that those damned ears fell off. Literally. They were kinda just lying there, dead and...icky. So I sent them to Amerika, along with an invitation. It is time for payback. I shall get him drunk, and then drop him off on France's doorstep tied up in a red, white and blue bow. Even though I hate France.

Oh! I also smashed Japan's camera collection while he was away visiting China. No more yaoi fan service for you, bitch.

Your Slightly Devious Author,

The Russian Federation


	8. Violated

January 8

I just finished vomiting/dying/screaming/crying/beating things with my pipe for seven hours. Why? I'll tell you the fuck why.

So Amerika came over. My plan _was _to get him wasted, but... It takes a shit ton of alcohol to do so. Even with my strongest vodkas. So, unfortunately, I _think _(because how the fuck am I supposed to remember) that we both ended up drunk. But that's not why I'm disgusted. I woke up this morning. In bed. WITH THAT FUCKING WHORE AMERIKA.

He's now beaten and bloody and half way to Antarctica (where I hope- no, PRAY he stays forever), but I'll never get the image of him, naked, in MY bed, SNUGGLING ME. HE HAD THE GUTS TO FUCKING SNUGGLE ME!

If I haven't said it enough- FUCK MY LIFE. AND FUCK AMERIKA. HAHAHAHA. OH LOOK. I HAVE A NEW WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION FOR YOU, AMERIKA. WATCH YOUR ASS, HO.

Your Violated Author,

The Russian Federation


	9. Tomorrow Brings Pain

Wow. You people have serious RussAme syndrome or something. Not that we're complaining...

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January 9

Fuck this shit. Tomorrow's the start of a three day World Meeting. I cannot do this. The shame... First, the whole boob fiasco, then Japan's yaoi pictures, and now Amerika... Just thinking about that dirty hamburger hog makes me want to smash his face in. ...Somedays I wish I could just disappear. Away from it all. Or begin a nuclear holocaust. Which reminds me of the Cold War. I'm not sure why they call it that.

Shit. A car pulled into the driveway. Looks like it belongs to Belarus. I have to hide now. Or possibly run.

Your Author With A Serious Case Of OOCness,

The Russian Federation


	10. Chaos

January 10

Chaos. Absolute chaos. Germany was a no-show. Which meant no one to tell every dummkopf to "SHUT UP!" And that meant every dummkopf made it a competition to see how loud they could possibly be. I said "I think I'll be going", but inside I was like: "YOU DAMN DICKFARTS. I'M GONNA NUKE YOU ALL AFTER THIS. WHERE THE HELL IS NORTH KOREA. I'M TEAMING UP WITH HER. GOOD FUCKING BYE."

Of course, if I had voiced this aloud, they'd have locked me in the OOC jail for a while. I've heard it is worse than my WWII era basement. It must be pretty bad. Speaking if basements, that's where I am now. Amerika had this funny idea that I should take the furthest hotel room from him. The only reason that's funny is because he didn't seem to have a problem with being in my personal space a while ago...

Oh, good riddance. I'm going to sleep. May my dreams be filled with sunflowers and dead Amerikans.

Your Motherfucking, Amerikan Busting, Cold Hearted, Slightly Psychotic Pipe-Weilder,

The Russian Federation


	11. Damn It, Gilbird!

January 11

This morning, I was rudely awakened to some screamy German song. It turns out, that little fucker Prussia was waiting outside the door. I _think_ he asked me something (you never can tell with that damned accent), but the next thing I knew, BABAM. I was Gilbird's babysitter for the rest of the ENITRE. FUCKING. DAY.

So, through the whole meeting, the bitch was pecking my head until I started bleeding, then he shit on my papers, put feathers down my shirt, and stole my scarf. Nobody. Steals. The. Scarf. I broke his wings.

Even though that bird pretty much ruined the day, I got to watch Hungary hit Amerika out of the top floor window with a heavy duty frying pan. I didn't even know that they made those. I wonder of they make heavy duty pipes?

And I almost forgot- TOMORROW PRUSSIA DIES.

Your Gilbirdsitting Author,

The Russian Federation


	12. Your Fucking Welcome

January 12

Joy. Sweet, beautiful joy. One more day of pissy meetings to go. Today was great. I gave Gilbird back to Prussia. He freaked out about the whole broken wing thing. Then he tried to strangle me with my scarf. We do not touch the scarf. Let's just say he'll have a fear of pipes raping him for a while.

Amerika tried to talk to me today. He does not seemed to care what happened between us, or is denying it ever occurred. I kicked him down the elevator. I hope he falls forever and ever.

Did you know that if you hide Germany's beer, he goes on a rampage? I found this out the hard way. I blamed it on Amerika. I do not feel any guilt. Even if he's now unable to walk for a day or so.

Even if today was good, it was slightly boring. Maybe tomorrow, something gloriously chaotic will occur. And I shall be in the middle of it, with a shit eating grin.

Your Fucking Welcome For This Entry- Your Author,

The Russian Federation


	13. Fire Ants

Quick Note: WE LIIIIIVE! But you probably don't care. So read, you little piece of (LOL JK)

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January 13

I am just simply fucking amazing. I do not know why it has taken me so long to realize this. For today... Today was a beautiful day. The birds were singing (I killed them with a broken vodka bottle), the Sun was shining (I told the Sun to go fuck itself) and best of all, the world was screaming.

Oh, why? The only reason would be THE MOTHERFUCKING RUSSIAN FEDERATION, THAT'S WHO, BITCH. Before the meeting began, I snuck into the room and put beautiful little packages of fire ants into everybody's papers. You really can get anything off of Amazon.

Ah, you should've been there... Italy lost his shit and somehow set Germany on fire, and Amerika (that dumbfuck) tried to put it out with a dousing of alcohol. Fortunately countries are immortal to a point.

And also, fuck you. Goodbye.

Your Happy Pal,

The Russian Federation


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